Sekirei - Darkhorse
by DMacIntosh
Summary: It had been his dream to attend the prestigious Tokyo University, to walk the halls of the Toudai and study with Japans best and brightest. 'Had' being the key word. Had his life continued on in a normal fashion he may have attempted it again in the years to come, but being dragged into the chaos of a city-wide bloodbath ruined it all. "Are you an angel?..."


**Revised version. See end authors notes for details**

 **X~X~X**

 **Shin Tokyo**

 **Year 2021, August 15th - Friday**

It all seemed so silly now.

From where Minato stood by the railings of an elevated metro terminal, it all seemed so meaningless, so irrelevant, to the life he now lived. He gazed out at the highly-esteemed Tokyo University, the campus of his high school dreams and the cause of many sleepless nights thereafter. It was composed of seventeen buildings of ornate red brick, with interconnected pathways of shrine-inspired garden decor.

It was a sight to see, truly, and it was the dream of average joes and prodigies alike to one day join its prestigious ranks. It was Minato's dream, too, though at this point he could no longer say that with much certainty.

Minato's eyes grew distant as he leaned over the safety rail. Back then, striking out at the university entrance exam felt like the end of the world. Being taken out by a major traffic accident only days before the follow-up exam was salt in the wound. It was humiliating.

Now, it was just another memory. He felt proud of himself for preserving what little dignity he had afterward.

But even with his new found confidence, he couldn't bring himself to face the potential outcome of walking away empty-handed again. Not yet, at least.

A series of electronic beeps from the Linear Metro's PA signaled that his train had arrived. He didn't even dignify Tokyo U with a lingering glance; he pulled his gym bag up onto his shoulder and proceeded to join the large crowd boarding the train at University Plaza.

Boxed in against a window, Minato could do little but let out a frustrated sigh. A quiet jingle from his pocket reached his ears, though barely audible over the bustle of the commuter car.

Despite being nearly pinned against a wall by the weight of several other people, the raven-haired youth was able to bring his phone up to his face. He smiled as he swiped to answer, then yawned into the phone.

"Good evening to you, too, son," came the stoic voice of the female caller.

"Heheheh... Moshi Moshi Okaa-san, it's been a while!"

A slight 'hmph' was her only reply. To others, this might seem a sign of dissatisfaction, but Minato knew it to be the closest thing to a laugh his mother could muster. In the background, he could hear the symphony of clicks as nimble fingers tapped on a keyboard. She was still at work, then.

"It's been an 'interesting' month." ...was her excuse for dropping off the grid, though she seemed adamant not to dwell on it. "Well? Update me, then."

Her tone conveyed disinterest, that was just her demeanor. A quirk of being Takami Sahashi's son was learning to read intent from actions, not attitude.

Relishing the chance to turn off his brain, Minato lost himself in the office gossip. She would never know how much her son appreciated the distraction.

Being extremely anxious since childhood meant the crowds on public transport were a perpetual nightmare for Minato. His apprehension grew as more people pushed aboard.

Tokyo's famous downtown scenery was like being at the bottom of a glass and steel canyon that stretched up as far as the eye could see, everything bathed in neon.

Minato found himself staring at a towering ad spread across three skyscrapers. A massive capital 'M', backlit in white. It represented 'Mid-Bio Informatics', his mother's employer and de facto owner of Japan's economy. An image of its Chairman posed behind it. He was an eccentric philanthropist and sometimes heralded as the modern day Tesla. _Everyone_ knew the name Minaka Hiroto.

An elbow in the back jerked his head out of the clouds. He had trailed off on his last sentence, and the sound of high-speed typing was absent.

"So…" his mother said coolly.

Not recalling where the conversation was at, he stammered, "Uh… so?"

"You won't even consider it?"

Now he was on the spot. "I won't consider wha- oh, Mom can we talk about this another time?'"

"The entry deadline for Medical isn't for another month. If you start studying now you have a good chance of getting in."

"No, I'm not going to stress myself out studying and working full-time."

"Then submit your release and I'll give you an allowa-"

"Unlike Yukari, I'd like to earn my money! Do you even know what your daughter does with most of what you give her?" He was sure he could hear her teeth grind. The harshness of his words was turning heads, Minato faced the window to avoid all the glares.

The youth spied something strange as the argument lulled. A plume of smoke, easy to see against the bright city lights. It streamed out from amidst far-off buildings. To him, it looked like the smoke was trailing two person-sized objects, which emerged from nowhere and disappeared just as fast. Brow furrowed, he glanced around the train at the people reading or listening to music. All lost in their own worlds. No one else seemed concerned, and that was if any noticed at all.

A loud sigh of indignation surprised him.

"That's not fair Minato" she declared quietly. An awkward silence hung between them. Takami resumed typing. "You've got so much potential. I just wish you wouldn't give up."

Dwelling on the subject, he failed to notice the train pulling into his destination, the only thing cueing him to leave being another electronic beep and a green indicator above the doors giving the go-ahead as they opened for the horde to disperse.

 _"That was quick… I must have been really spacing out."_

"I'm not giving up, Mom! Just… I've got a good thing going right now, please. Listen, I'm at my stop. Can we talk again tomorrow?"

The rapid-fire _click-clack_ emphasized the cold shoulder his mother gave him. Disembarking from the train felt like an eternity with the silence of his mother's disapproval boring into his ear. A huge wave of relief hit him at the same time as the cool evening air.

"Alright. Good night, Minato. Stay safe." He smiled at her usual curt farewell and fist pumped in his jacket pocket. Crisis averted.

"Love you too Mom. Bye."

During most of the walk home, he tuned out the sounds of Tokyo's nightlife and lost his head in the clouds. He didn't even feel like the same young boy from Wakayama anymore; he felt like he could take on the world.

A mop of messy, blond hair trailed close behind, skulking around and between residential properties. The heavy, stalking footfalls echoed down the empty street with the click of heeled boots.

 **0~0~0~0~0**

Mitsuha fought to regain control of her breathing. It was dumb luck their paths crossed again. The first had been a split second sighting before he disappeared into a crowd.

But today, a week later, the stars had aligned. Number Forty-Eight Kujika had been out on the prowl with her, looking for unwinged numbers to corner. It was while chasing down one of their unfortunate sisters that she'd spotted him at a metro station, and rushed to close the distance.

But it seemed history was due to repeat, as her unknowing (but hopefully not unwilling) soul mate had quickly joined the crowd boarding a train. For almost two hours she'd lain atop his train car. In her mind, it was like waiting for a locked box to open and give her the most precious treasure in the world. In reality, it was much less romantic. She was sweaty and twitchy, and hungry.

She couldn't breath being so close to him, and she swore she could feel his heartbeat in the back of her neck.

 _Is the reaction supposed to be this intense?_ It was unbearable.

Everything after that was a disaster.

Once he'd disembarked, Mitsuha tried to circle ahead in hopes of jumping him in an alley or 'something'. It wasn't the romantic joining of souls she'd envisioned but at that point she didn't care. If she didn't kiss him soon she was going to jump him in the street! The blood in her veins felt red hot and her mouth was dry; she just wanted his kiss, wanted to be _his_.

Then _they_ showed up. One masked fire-elemental raving about being a 'guardian', some scantily clad lightning-twins deserving of a kink-shame, and a weapon-type with no weapon. All trading blows, with Number Thirty-Eight stuck in the middle while her Ashikabi got further and further away.

Evidently, Mitsuha and Kujika weren't the only ones taking out unwinged numbers, at least that was the impression she got of the situation.

Repeated glancing shots of electricity almost put her in the path of a firestorm, though luckily only her hair had suffered. _Someone_ needed a whipping for that!

Then a bunch of humans in blue uniforms tried to intervene!

Luckily the masked number torching buildings with his hands seemed less interested in her.

Fast forward and here she was, hiding behind a garden wall, watching her Ashikabi walk without a care in the world. Had he even heard any of that? It was only a couple blocks away. She would count herself lucky if he didn't absent-mindedly wander into the path of a bus.

"Tsuha-chan why did you run off? It took me forever to find you!" Mitsuha, scared out of her skin, whirled around to clamp a hand across the nuisances mouth.

"Shhhhh! Do you want him to hear you?!" She leaned around the corner to check if he heard the outburst.

 _Of course he didn't! I could probably walk right past this guy with my tits out and he wouldn't bat an eye. I'll have to fix that..._

The whip-fighter released her friend but maintained a glare to get the point across.

"Him?" Kujika questioned.

It was clear to her Mitsuha had walked away from one hell of a battle, though with who she couldn't tell. Then it hit her. The petite Number Forty-Eight leaned out to peek up the street, and her face spread out in an ear-to-ear smile.

"Ohhhh! _Hiiiim!_ Well, let's go say hi to !"

The hand that flew out to cover Number Forty-Eight's mouth would have broken bone if either girl was human.

"Stop Jika-chan, You can't! I uh, haven't. You know..."

Mitsuha averted her eyes. Her face coloured crimson.

Kujika wouldn't be quieted this time, however. She twisted the hand off her face and started pulling her partner-in-crime out of hiding. "But Tsuha-chan! He looks so nice, I want to meet him!"

Then she stopped. "I mean unless you really _do_ want to be winged by Nishi-Sama?"

A more genuine, childlike smile could _not_ be found; the ebony power-type said this as if it was an inside joke. It was anything but, however, and fright was the reaction it garnered. Kujika hinted at this too often to be anything but serious.

A shudder ran down Mitsuha's back.

"I-I'm winging myself tonight!" She had to get Kujika off her back before the chance slipped way again. "Right now, actually! So jus-just give me some time with him and I promise I'll introduce you in a few days!"

Kujika squinted cruelly at her. It was an expression that seemed to be the polar extreme of her cheerful, scatterbrained personality. Spotting the mood swings typical of most power-types was a necessary skill in the MBI labs; ignoring the signs was asking for bruises. Thankfully, Kujika's shift passed quickly and her smile spread wide with glee.

"Then your prince charming awaits!" Kujika declared, and shoved her sister out into the street. "Go get 'em, Cinderella!"

A whoosh followed moments later by silence reassured her that Number Forty-Eight was gone for good. The lone Sekirei's lungs finally released their tension. Mitsuha was still nervous, but no longer knee-knockingly so.

In the meantime, entered a small two-story building down the street. His house, probably. The warmth from her crest-spot wasn't as intense from this distance; the chill left behind was like the first time he disappeared.

 _I swear if he has a girlfriend I'll throw the bitch out a window._ Rumours of such a thing spread quickly after the first week of releases. The bond was meant to cement an everlasting love between two mates. Another partner in the picture would turn things ugly.

She looked herself over, expecting the worst but hoping to make a good impression. The bright yellow stripe down her thigh-level black dress was a dingy brown from charring, not to mention all the tears in the poor, tortured fabric! Her pigtails were a dank, frizzy tangle, and the amount of soot coating her ensured she'd pass for a coal miner.

If she was Cinderella, it was _hours_ after midnight.

"I'm a mess! Not even a hot one either."

 **0~0~0~0~0**

It wasn't until he drew close to his apartment Minato felt concerned about the increasing number of sirens. It wasn't just a few, more like a SAP response; the Doppler effect of their coming and going was audible for several blocks around.

But Minato was just outside his home by then. So, he gave it little thought.

He swiped his projector tablet to the news and began his regimen of winding down. There had been an accident nearby, a big one, too, from the looks of it. But a statement from the TMPD reported it to be under control.

Preparing for the following days was part of his routine. He prepared meals, laid out his clothes and put a little spit and polish to his brown brogues. Tonight, something seemed off. Pressure built in his throat, but he couldn't place why.

 _Must be a headache coming on. Should take something to help me sleep._

 _Bung Bung Bung._ He froze crossing the hallway and looked to the source of the racket. The door. It was too hard to be a rap of the knuckles, and just barely below a football tackle.

He inched forward cautiously, his stomach doing flips. The closest thing he could compare it to was getting sick from a carnival ride when he was a kid.

He grabbed a bat from the hall closet and continued on. Judging by how the door shook he expected to see some giant or an Aizukotetsu-kai thug. Breathing deep to settle himself, Minato twisted the handle and gave it a hard yank. Anyone intending to cause trouble was going to lose teeth!

But in front of him was no Gregor Clegane look-alike, nor any graduate of the hard knocks academy. His eyes met with ragged blonde hair, then continued down.

Under that ragged fringe of blonde was sad, longing eyes the colour of amethyst. Those fathomless violet pools were not simply monochromatic; they held a vibrancy of colour that matched the emotional range in her face. Their composition a haze of cool azure mingling with slivers of amber. It seemed a crime not to study every detail of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Framing them was the fair skinned, slightly plump face of a white woman in her early twenties. It was a face that demanded attention. She was well dressed, though extremely dirty, and smelled like a dumpster fire.

But those eyes! They scared him more than the glare of any thug, because for a brief moment he realized he would do anything for someone that looked at him the way she was in that moment.

Sahashi fumbled, tongue-tied, his brain struggling to catch up. It occurred to him he was staring while the poor girl probably needed help. But she remained stock still, quietly fidgeting and biting her lower lip as she looked up at him.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- are you ok? Do you need help?" He asked apologetically, trying not to make eye contact again.

She said nothing, simply answering with a suppressed groan. Maybe she was under duress? Maybe she was just on drugs.

"Ok uh… Ok. Ok. Come in, I'll go call th-!" She lunged before he even knew what was going on. Minato yelped and swung for the fences on instinct. The blunt object did nothing to dissuade his attacker and she wrenched the implement aside, one-handed, and flung it down the hall like a javelin.

Minato screeched and flailed as she took him to the ground. His punches and swipes found their target but did nothing. She couldn't have weighed more than fifty kilograms, yet his fists had the same effect on her as a stiff breeze. She reached for his face with both hands and squeezed herself against him, straddling him. Minato's cries for help became suddenly muffled by her soft lips. His resistance disappeared, like his sense of reality, in a blinding flash of light that emerged somewhere behind her back.

Electricity shot down his nerves, spreading through him like a gas fire as he lost all control. His arms wrapped around her of their own accord, pulling her in tighter as she moaned into their kiss, her fingers running through his hair.

Their moment of saliva-swapping intensity went on so long it seemed it should be morning when they finally parted. She sat up in his lap with a line of spit suspended between their mouths as momentary evidence of their connection. She cupped her face and those gorgeous eyes shut in contentment. Minato lay sprawled out, muscles quivering and perception reeling. It was only when he tried to speak that he registered the sweet taste on his tongue.

The harsh light from moments before dimmed to reveal the silhouette of great, feathered wings that seemed so out of place in his tiny hallway, if not for their mere existence. They reached to the ceiling and bent down along the walls. He felt warm. Safe even.

He felt…

…

...

Amazing.

"Are you an angel?..."

 **X~X~X**

 **Authors Notes:**

 **I struggled with this chapters flow for a long time, but finally found a solution after reading an old FF I started (though never finished) on a throwaway account years ago. It was WAY more successful and got WAY more feedback than this ever did! So plagiarism be damned I copied elements of that story from a throwaway account of a by-gone era! And with the help of user "Ikrani", my vision has been refined to a final product.**

 **Which leads me to my next point - Exposure. Since Ikrani isn't paid for his work a plug is only appropriate, check out "Fear of the dark", at this time a 69 chapter story about Minato, Kazehana and a whole world of author original content. The man has a way with words and a masterful understanding of literary devices in storytelling. However, I do not recommend him as a beta at this time ONLY for the fact that he is so overloaded with other beta gigs in addition to his own writing projects. Thank you Ikrani for your help.**

 **Lastly, if you are willing to beta then please PM me, as a fresh perspective and a critical eye are what will help me excel and learn as a writer.**

 **Until next time, please leave a review!**


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